


Eyes On Me

by JKRT



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Lapdance, M/M, Teasing, dancer felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22096297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JKRT/pseuds/JKRT
Summary: Dimitri needs to escort the White Heron Cup champion to a public dance and gets a private one instead.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 6
Kudos: 92





	Eyes On Me

**Author's Note:**

> plaemon tweeted about wanting a fic where Dancer Felix gives Dimitri a lapdance while Dimitri tries not to break a chair, and that was absolutely something I wanted to see in the world, so I hope I delivered.

“ _Wheeeerrre_ is our champion?” Byleth hisses as they snake through the students. They grab Dimitri by the elbows, sticking their head over his shoulder. “He was just supposed to go change in the backroom,” They whisper in his ear pushing him through the crowd to the main door. “ _Go get him_.”

Dimitri stumbles as the doors close behind him, shutting out the steady hum of the gathered student body and the orchestra. The hallway is eerily silent without it.

He adjusts his jacket. Well, the professor has given him a task. He must fulfill his duty as his fill as head of house.

He turns down the empty hall toward the small rooms behind the dance hall.

He raps smartly on the backroom door twice, careful to use just enough force to make it carry. After a few moments of silence, he tries again, this time calling out as well.

“Felix? The professor sent me to fetch you.” He gives it another few moments and then begins tapping on the door again, rather frantically.

“Felix? Are you in there?”

The door wrenches open, and he takes a step back in surprise. Felix’s scowling face glares out from the opening.

“ _What_?”

“Ah, there you are! The professor sent me to collect you - are you ready for your performance?” 

Felix groans and pushes the door open wider. “I guess, if I have to be…”

There are many stories of what the Goddess and her 10 Heroes looked like in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, and Dimitri thinks that tonight, Felix puts them all to shame. 

The swordsman is wrapped in airy silks, draped from his shoulder and his waist. The blue is nearly black, drawing out highlights in his dark hair. Silver coins clink at his waist, scattering light that catches on the silvered threads that weave throughout the pristine whites. Felix himself is pale, but the white fabric is so sheer that it makes him look rosy.

“What, why are you staring at me like that?” Felix brushes the gauzy fabric at his thighs, suddenly self-conscious. “Does it look bad?”

“N-no, it looks--” He swallows thickly. “Stunning.”

“Ugh.” Felix frowns and rolls his eyes, but he colors at the compliment. It goes all the way down to his chest and across his shoulders, enriched by the white silks of his costume.

“Well…” Felix turns away from the door, leaving it open. “Come make yourself useful and carry my stuff. I don’t want to have to come back here to change again.”

“O-oh, yes, of course.”

Dimitri follows the brunet inside the small room, which has been temporarily fitted as a dressing room. A large vanity is against the far wall, with another full length mirror hung against another wall. There is a single wooden chair, pushed out into the middle of the room. Felix goes to the vanity and starts dumping things into a small bag.

“Annette got all excited about lending me these, but I’m not using them.” He explains, tying it closed and tosses it at Dimitri. “So this goes to her instead.” The swordsman bends down to start swiping his clothes off the floor. The layers of fabric are drawn smooth and tight over his backside. Dimitri’s eyes trail down along the hem to where they gather and swish at Felix’s ankles, showing flashes of his toned calves where they are wrapped with supple leather.

The bag falls from his hands with a clatter.

Felix looks over his shoulder, still bent down. “Really? The beast can’t even hold on to a bag?”

Dimitri stammers out some nonsense and immediately drops to his knees, trying to scoop all the small vials and pallets and brushes back into the bag.

Felix straightens, and walks over, trapping a small vial under his sandal just as the blond reaches for it.

“Something wrong, boar?” He is so close that that his gossamer skirts brush Dimitri’s hair as the prince looks up. His nose almost grazes Felix’s skin.

The swordsman is standing over him, one hip cocked and a hand resting on it.

“You seem...distracted.”

Dimitri swallows again, dry tongue rasping against the roof of his mouth. His ears are on fire. He is unable to speak.

“Hmph. I thought so…” Felix crouches down, takes a hold of Dimitri’s chin in his hand. “You’re going to be useless for the rest of the night if you don’t get your fill of looking, won’t you?”

Dimitri says nothing, which answers just as well. Felix smirks and Dimitri loses himself in how good that expression looks on him. It suits his sharp face better than a smile.

“Well we can’t have our _glorious prince_ be a mute fool at the biggest social event of the year, can we? Leave the makeup,” He commands. “Sit in the chair.” and he is crawling backwards on his hands until he finds the chair and pulls himself up into it, his eyes never once leaving Felix.

Felix strides towards him, crossing his feet for every step to roll his hips and making the coins and jewelry chime. When he gets to the chair he lifts his leg up - _all_ the way up - setting his heel on the armrest over Dimitri’s elbow. He rests an arm on his knee and leans in. The high split in his skirts leaves his entire thigh bare, the lines of his muscles stark in the low lighting of the small room.

“Now remember, boar,” He rumbles. “This show is _look_ , not _touch_. Keep your hands to yourself, you understand?” Dimitri nods and hs hands go to the seat of the chair, the wood already creaking under his fingers. Felix’s eyes flick down, momentarily disappearing like twin candle flames.

“Have a little self control, you beast. If you break the chair, not only will I stop dancing for you, I won’t go to the main hall. You don’t want to disappoint the _professor_ do you?” A small whine comes from the chair again, but Dimitri realizes it is actually coming from him. He curls his fingers and instead presses his knuckles to the underside of the seat in an attempt to take some of the strain off the chair.

Felix draws back, languidly slow. He trails his fingers all up his leg as he does so, letting them catch on the fabric of his belt, hiking it up at his waist just a little bit more. He skims over his chest and up his neck, demurely extending his arm over his head, looking at Dimitri from under his dark eyelashes. The prince is mesmerized by the long motions. Felix’s eyes glitter in the dark of the shadows the small lanterns cast. All of the jewelry and coins and silver threads glint like stars, like the whole of the night sky has been swathed over him by the Goddess herself. He begins to move to an unheard beat - not that Dimitri would be able to hear it anyway, with the way his own heartbeat is pounding in his ears. He drops to a crouch and springs back up, his skirts flaring and showing off the strength of his legs. With his arms held above his head, it bunches together to open at the sides, displaying corded muscles all down his sides. The swordsman rolls his entire body, moving tantalizingly close to Dimitri and then away. He loops one leg over the prince’s lap, keeping a steady rhythm with his hips.

The blond’s arms are shaking with effort, the wood has dented under his knuckles. His breath rattles in his chest as the brunet drapes one arm over his shoulder to brace against the back of the chair while he straddles Dimitri fully. He is on his knees, looming over the prince. He traces the edge of one hand along the side of the blond’s face and down his neck to rest on his collar. He pushes firmly, forcing distance between them, and that distance makes Dimitri’s chest ache more than the pressure. He is hypnotized by the bright flare of Felix’s golden eyes, his own breath strangling him in his throat. Felix begins to rise up and down, ghosting touches with his thighs and ass against the prince’s lap. His hands shift downward as the wood under his palms come free from the rest of the seat.

Hot fingers skim his jaw, tilting his chin up, stealing the last of his breath. Silk fills his vision as Felix pants heavily in his ear.

“You broke the chair.” He whispers.

Dimitri’s vision goes white and this time not because of silks.

  
  


Dimitri stays seated in a chair with a piece of it in either hand until Cyril finds him, the boy doing his rounds to clean up after the ball.

“Oh, hey there Mister Your Highness. What are you doing in here? You missed a great show - that Felix is an awful pretty dancer, isn’t he?”

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell with me on Twitter, @jk_rts!


End file.
